


Counterpoint

by pippen2112



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Objectification, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Behavior, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pippen2112/pseuds/pippen2112
Summary: The Gentleman cups Fjord’s hip with one hand and brings a metal ball to eye level with the other. “This is a curious little contraption our dear friend Ms. Mardun turned me on to. A deviously simple gadget. With a simple incantation, I can command the metal to change shape.”Fjord nods slowly. The magic is impressive, but he doesn’t quite grasp what makes this particular contraption so interesting. That is, until the Gentleman sucks his other nipple and takes him in hand, slowly curling tight around him, almost painfully tight. Fjord gasps and arches his back into the sensation. Bucking into the stimuli.Humming, the Gentleman kisses along Fjord’s collarbone, eyes fixed intently on him. "If you're amenable, I'll milk a little more pleasure out of you, then craft a cage for your pretty cock and send you on your way. If you make it three days without begging for release, I'll give you a reward."
Relationships: Fjord/The Gentleman | Babenon Dosal
Comments: 8
Kudos: 137





	Counterpoint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladyofrosefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wager](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709101) by [ladyofrosefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire). 



> This fic would not exist without the lovely ladyofrosefire and her Fjord Trash Fjic Quarantine Zone series. My eternal thanks for letting me play in your playground and for beta-reading and cheerleading me through finishing this fic.
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by the aforementioned series. It does stand alone, but it definitely makes more sense when you have Wager, Manifest, and Concord for context.

"I have a gift for you," the Gentleman says, breaking the silence that has spread in the wake of their coupling. He’s currently reclined in his lavish bed, Fjord cuddled into his side, half asleep after their last round and enjoying the rare moment of peace. This thing between them, this relationship, is more stress relief and convenience than anything serious. It may have started to settle a calculated risk gone awry, but the last few times the Mighty Nein has passed through Zadash, the Gentleman has invited him to play. And try as he might, Fjord hasn’t found it in him to say “no.” At least, not yet. 

"A gift?" he asks, doing his best to ignore the fresh flare of arousal in his groin. 

"I give many gifts," the Gentleman replies, trailing a long finger along Fjord’s shoulder, a cool damp trail forming in its wake. From the angle, he can’t make out the Gentleman’s face, but Fjord has a sneaking suspicion he’s grinning. "And I suspect you will enjoy this one."

When Fjord offers no protest, the Gentleman leans to the side and rummages through the bedside table. He returns holding a twisted mass of silver metal, turning it this way and that for Fjord to see. It can’t be bigger than a walnut, and unlike the other gifts the Gentleman has presented him in the bedroom, he can’t immediately identify the purpose of this. 

“Gonna tell me what it does?” he asks, doing his best to suppress his shiver.

“In a moment,” the Gentleman says, tapping Fjord’s shoulder with his free hand. “Once we’re more comfortable.”

Fjord sits up and lets the Gentleman move around until he’s seated against the headboard. A quick tug of the wrist and he has Fjord in his lap, heedless of the fact that Fjord is definitely the bigger of the two. Before he can point that out, the Gentleman pulls Fjord flush against him and presses a biting kiss to his chest, mouth sliding down to nibble at his nipple. Fjord keens, his eyelids fluttering shut and his cock swelling between them again. _Gods,_ he thinks, _I swear I didn’t used to be this excitable._

“That’s better,” the Gentleman says, one hand cupping Fjord’s hip, the other lifting the ball of metal to eye level. “This is a curious little contraption our dear friend Ms. Mardun turned me on to. A deviously simple gadget. With a simple incantation, I can command the metal to change shape.”

Fjord nods slowly. The magic is impressive, but he doesn’t quite grasp what makes this particular contraption so interesting. That is, until the Gentleman sucks his other nipple and wraps a teasing hand around his cock, slowly curling tight around him, almost painfully tight. Fjord gasps and arches his back into the sensation. Bucking into the stimuli. 

Humming, the Gentleman kisses along Fjord’s collarbone, eyes fixed intently on him. "If you're amenable, I'll milk a little more pleasure out of you, then craft a cage for your pretty cock and send you on your way. If you make it three days without begging for release, I'll give you a reward."

Cheeks burning, Fjord swallows a whine and grins back. "Really? You that confident it'll be worth my while?"

Without a word, the Gentleman smirks and pinches Fjord's nipples, twisting sharply until Fjord squeezes his eyes shut and whines. Bright pain ripples through him, and his dick twitches between them, untouched. The Gentleman holds firm for a solid ten seconds before releasing his hold, smugness radiating from every inch of him. "I think we can both agree I have your number. Don't I, pet?"

Gasping for air, Fjord nods. "Yes, sir."

"Good boy. Now, hands behind your back, and I'll take care of you. Remember to ask permission before you come."

He exhales and pulls both hands around to the small of his back, right hand wrapped around his left wrist and clinging. Already, arousal prickles beneath his skin, and his toes curl in anticipation. "Ready, sir."

Eyes gleaming with pleasure, the Gentleman inclines his head and drags his hands down Fjord's chest and works his cock in quick, brutal tugs, offering no quarter. Sooner than he would ever admit, Fjord is moaning and twitching. He lurches forward into each stroke, fucking the Gentleman’s fist in earnest and already riding the edge of orgasm. 

“I’m close, sir."

"Really?" The Gentleman says, head tilted to the side as he lazily works Fjord over. Like he hasn't a care in the world. He slows his pace and lightens his grip to the lightest glide of fingers. "And what do you expect me to do with this information?"

"Make me come?" he pants, arching into the barely-there touch. 

The Gentleman scoffs and bites his chest just shy of where he wants it. "Not if you're going to be a brat about it. Try again."

Whining, Fjord rolls his hips, searching for more stimulation, but the Gentleman is quick to slacken his grip and give his balls a firm tug. He squeezes his eyes shut and does his damnedest to slow his breathing and settle himself. "Please make me come, sir," he whispers.

"Hmm," the Gentleman says, giving Fjord an almost pitying look. "No. I don't think you mean it. Not yet, anyway." With barely a blink, he returns to Fjord's dick, teasing at that same sedate pace.

Fjord keens and fists his hands in the pillow, head thrown back as he struggles to keep himself in one piece. "Please, sir."

"You know what I want to hear, and I haven't heard it yet," the Gentleman replies, entirely unbothered by Fjord's distress. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he works his thumb over Fjord's glans in maddening circles. "Better hurry before I get bored."

His blood thrums. He _does_ know what the Gentleman expects to hear. They've done this enough he knows how he's expected to plead for his orgasm, and a not inconsiderable part of him wants to stand firm and see what would happen if he misbehaved. It would be so easy to give in to those rebellious thoughts and suffer through the denial. He wants it so bad he can taste it. But, well, the prospect of spending the next three days on edge without even the memory of an orgasm to pull him through, that's something he doesn't know if he's up to. 

With a desperate nod, Fjord exhales and sinks a little deeper into the Gentleman’s lap, loosening every muscle like he's been taught and surrendering. He meets the Gentleman's heated gaze and feels himself blush. "Please may I come, sir?"

The Gentleman smiles and strokes him with determination. "Good boy. When you're ready."

A half-dozen blissfully firm strokes later, Fjord's hips stutter up into the Gentleman's hand, and he comes with a cry, relief and release bringing tears to his eyes. As he lays sprawled on the bed and pants to catch his breath, he comes back to himself when warm, salty fingers press against his lips. He opens his mouth and sucks his spend from the Gentleman's fingers, enjoying the little flare of want that swells in him when the Gentleman brings his free hand up to Fjord's face and cups his cheek. "Very good boy. You're so sweet when you want to be."

Preening under the praise, he nuzzles into the Gentleman's hand and kisses his palm. "Thank you, sir."

The Gentleman strokes his cheek and beams. "Let me know when you're ready."

Fjord nods slowly, anxiety bubbling in his stomach. "It's not gonna hurt, is it?"

"It shouldn't. Not unless you want it to."

Blushing, Fjord stammers through a nonsense response. 

Luckily, the Gentleman just smirks at him. "Now, I need you soft for the next bit. Can you manage that, or should I help you along?"

Fjord shivers, the memory of the Gentleman dripping ice water over his groin still fresh in his mind. He shakes his head and focuses his mind on unsexy thoughts, grateful when in only a few minutes, his dick has gone flaccid against his thigh. The Gentleman nods and takes the ball of metal in hand. He whispers a few arcane words under his breath, and with a twitch, the metal slithers to life. Gently, the Gentleman tips his hand to the side and lets the metal slide down onto Fjord's thigh before it coils around his groin and goes still and hard once more, neatly cradling his cock and balls, light enough to not be a hindrance but heavy enough he can't forget it’s there. 

With a satisfied hum, the Gentleman palms his now caged groin and surges up to kiss Fjord just long enough to leave him panting for more. When they part, he can't help the whine that slips past his lips. 

"Shh," the Gentleman says, tapping Fjord's lips with his forefinger. "Now, I'll be busy the next few days, but I'll be in contact each evening. I expect you to tell me if this proves to be too much to bear."

"Yes, sir," Fjord says, wrapping his arms around the Gentleman and doing his best to take deep breaths and slow his rabbiting heartbeat. On the one hand, he's enjoyed everything the Gentleman has offered him more than he can say. On the other hand, giving the Gentleman this much control of him while they're away from each other leaves the back of his neck prickling and his gut unsteady. He exhales slowly and hugs the Gentleman a little tighter. "Can I stay a little longer?"

"Of course," the Gentleman says, tilting them to the side and laying down with Fjord in his arms. "We have a little more time."

Fjord grins and sighs, a faint purr rumbling in his chest. 

#

The walk back from the Evening Nip has him flushed and aching in his smallclothes, every step making the plug tease against his inner walls. The Gentleman’s last order rings in his mind. _“Keep this in for me. I’ll be in contact tonight when you can take it out.”_ Gulping hard, Fjord has to duck down an alley and lean against the wall, breathing slowly and evenly until the thrum in his veins ebbs away. 

_Three days,_ he reminds himself between steady breaths _. You can handle three days. You’ve had longer dry spells than that._

He spends the afternoon roaming through the city, slowly adjusting to the pressure in his ass and around his cock. He’s made the walk back to his inn while wearing one of the Gentleman’s glass plugs many times before, but today each step leaves him hypersensitive, twitching and eager to slip a hand between his thighs and squeeze himself for an ounce of relief. Instead he gnaws at the inside of his cheek and fists his hands at the small of his back and reminds himself to behave. 

He makes it back to the Pillow Trove and has a quick dinner with the rest of the Nein before excusing himself for the night. He’s certain Jester and Caduceus give him some odd looks at how quickly he makes for his private room, but they don’t say anything and for that he is grateful. He keeps himself busy tending to his armor, taking time to polish and maintain it until a now-familiar voice rings in his mind. “ _Good evening pet. I hope you’ve had a deliciously frustrating day. When you’re alone, you can remove the plug. Sweet dreams.”_

He can almost hear the Gentleman’s teasing laugh, but nevertheless, Fjord drops his trousers and eases the plug out of himself, wincing as his cock gives a rebellious throb between his thighs. “Thank you, sir,” he replies with a groan. “Sleep well.”

Unfortunately for Fjord, sleep is slow to come, leaving him tossing and turning until the early hours of his morning. Every now and again, he drifts off into nebulous, half-remembered dreams and wakes to his cock doing its damnedest to swell in the cage. By the time he rises and makes his way down to breakfast, he’s twitchy and anxious. When he catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the way downstairs, he scrubs his face in his hands and uses his Mask of Many Faces to hide the circles under his eyes. It should buy him enough time.

Day two passes in a blur around him, his mind periodically drawn back to the cage and his need. Honestly, he doesn’t think he’s ever dripped this much, but his smallclothes are soaked by the end of the day and flickers of want surge up his spine. 

He’s idly palming his groin when the Gentleman messages him. “ _How are you holding up, pet? It has been a long, tedious day, but made much more enjoyable thinking about your predicament.”_

Blushing furiously, Fjord snaps his hand away from his groin and stammers out a response. “Gods, that’s a lot to hear.” He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck anxiously. “Not bad, sir, but it's definitely a new experience. Any chance I can get some relief in the meantime?”

He waits for the Gentleman’s response, breath thin in his chest. Tenses his thighs in anticipation. After two minutes, he starts to deflate, not expecting another reply when the Gentleman’s voice prickles in the back of his mind. _“I doubt it will help, but you could try humping the mattress. Although, that might rile you even more. You’re welcome to try. No coming.”_

“Fuck, thank you, sir,” he moans, shoving down his trousers, rolling onto his stomach, and rutting his hips against the mattress. 

Through the bars of the cage, he gets some delicious friction against his cock. But all too quickly, his cock fills the cage and begins to pinch, finding nowhere to grow. Gasping and squirming, Fjord can’t stop himself grinding into the mattress, seeking out release no matter how far off it feels. He lasts a few minutes before collapsing into the bed, sweat cooling on his skin and blood thrumming in his groin with nowhere to go. It’s another restless night.

Jester raps on his door bright and early on day three. “Fjord, wake up! Beau and I need your help with something.”

He groans into his pillow but drags himself out of bed. “Lemme wake up and put my pants on first, Jester.”

Day three ends up being a mad day running around Zaddash doing his best to keep Beau, Jester, and Nott all out of trouble. More than once, he has to talk their way out of confrontations with the Crown’s Guard, but when they get clear, he can’t help laughing with the girls, sharing in their merriment. He almost manages to forget his predicament until they’re picking up dinner from a roadside vendor. 

He’s midway through placing his order when the Gentleman’s voice rings in his head. _“I hope you’ve had a good day, pet. Come and see me tomorrow afternoon. Just remember to be a good boy until then.”_

“--three kebabs, please?” He says before he can stop himself, then burrows his brow and focuses his reply. “And that will be a gold? Understood, sir, thank you.”

The female half-elf behind the food cart gives him a strange look but doesn’t correct him, holding out his order and accepting his money, offering no change. 

Exhaling with relief, Fjord turns and finds Jester has sidled up behind him, her expression sweet and curious as ever. “Fjord, don’t be rude. It’s not nice to call a lady ‘sir.’” But from the slight quirk to the corner of her mouth, Fjord suspects she’s more suspicious than she’s letting on. 

Cheeks heating up, Fjord looks back at the vendor and chokes out an apology before stuffing his mouth full and leading the girls back toward the Pillow Trove. Jester doesn’t say anything more on the matter, but Fjord doesn’t want to risk an interrogation. He makes his goodbyes promptly and rushes off to his room. 

He gets about halfway up the stairs when light footsteps come up behind him and Beau calls, “Hey Fjord! You got a moment?”

Stealing his expression, he turns to face Beau. “Sure, Beau. Do you need something?”

Beau leans against the railing across from him, crossing her arms and giving him a stern look before rolling her eyes. “Look, are you doing okay, dude? You’ve been kinda distant since we got back to Zadash, and Jester has been worried about you.”

His brow rises up toward his hairline. “Just Jester, huh?”

Beau rolls her eyes. “Okay, no, not just Jester, but she and Cad have been the most vocal about it. Look, I know you and I are the keep-things-close-to-the-chest types, but if you need to talk about anything, we’re here for you.”

For a moment, laughter bubbles up in his chest just picturing the face Beau would make if she found out _exactly_ what has had him so preoccupied the last few days, but he smothers it quickly. In its place, warmth grows, his heart soaring with fondness and appreciation for her concern, and Fjord has to swallow hard to keep his emotions in check. 

He claps Beau on the shoulder and lets a genuine grin curl up at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, Beau,” he says, glancing down at the floor before meeting her eye. He hasn’t really talked about his feelings in a while--it’s been years since he’s had the luxury to. “I’m working through it as best I can, but if anything comes up I can't sort out on my own, I’ll let you know.”

Nodding slowly, Beau claps his wrist before slugging his arm and heading off back downstairs. Gratitude prickles at the nape of his neck, that Beau asked but is still giving him the space to figure things out on his own. That she hadn’t pried. But they don’t get downtime all that often, and who knows when they’ll make their way back to this neck of the woods, so he’ll take advantage of the Gentleman’s company while he can.

#

By some miracle, Fjord manages to sleep in the next morning and to keep himself occupied until after lunch. Then he works the plug into himself, his cock dripping and begging for attention, and sneaks off through the side door and across Zadash to the Evening Nip. The barkeeper waves him in without a second glance, and downstairs, he makes his way directly into one of the Gentleman's private rooms, cock swelling with each step and aching against the bars of the cage. But he exhales slowly and sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, sitting on his heels with his hands clasped at the small of his back, waiting. Focusing on his breath, Fjord lets himself sink into the now-familiar headspace, readying himself for when the Gentleman arrives.

He's not sure how long he drifts in this state before he distantly hears the door creak open. Even footfalls cross the room, and before Fjord can blink his eyes open, steady hands thread through his hair, holding him firm. "What a good, patient pet," the Gentleman whispers, scratching Fjord's scalp. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long."

Humming, Fjord presses back into the touch, looking up at the Gentleman. "No, sir," he replies, his voice coming out softer than he expected. "Not long at all."

The Gentleman grins, shifting his stance and pushing a foot up between Fjord’s legs. Fjord lets them slide open, his breath hitching when pressure comes up against his confined cock. His hips jolt forward before he can stop himself, rutting into the pressure that does nothing but rile him up further. As he grinds forward, he can’t help clenching around the plug, and a whine slips out before he can silence himself. 

The Gentleman tugs at his hair, a short tug to drag his attention back to the present. 

Flushing, Fjord looks up at the Gentleman, embarrassment burning on his cheeks. “Sorry, sir.”

“Oh, none of that, you beautiful boy,” the Gentleman says, his tone full of warmth as he kneads Fjord’s scalp. “You know I like it when you moan for me. Now, tell me truly, how has this little venture treated you?” He nudges at Fjord’s groin as he speaks, his toe pressing in against the metal until Fjord hisses.

Breathing hard, Fjord swallows hard and tries to remember how to form coherent thoughts while slipping farther and farther into his headspace. “It’s been interesting, to say the least.” He tries to duck his head, but the Gentleman tightens his grip, allowing him nowhere to hide. Cheeks burning, he adds, “I don’t think I’ve been this constantly aroused since I learned how to masturbate.”

“And have you been a good boy, or did you manage to get yourself off without my permission?”

“No, sir,” he answers earnestly, his hips stuttering forward without his permission. He sucks in a sharp breath, tensing his thighs to stave off his arousal. _Focus._ “I couldn’t in the cage.”

The Gentleman takes a step back and crouches down beside him, his hand slipping down to rest over Fjord’s throat, a welcome, steadying presence. “Would you like to try?”

His heart pounds in his chest, and his mouth goes dry. “Sir?”

Running his thumb along Fjord’s jawline, the Gentleman explains, “You take to teasing so eagerly. I had thought as a reward, I’d leave the cage on while I fuck you. We could see how long you could last before you begged to come. We could see how far you can go before the only thought in that pretty little head of yours is release. Who knows, if you’re a desperate enough slut, you might even be able to come in spite of the cage.”

Despite the weight of the cage, Fjord feels his cock leap. Heat radiates through him, chest to groin, and he can’t help gasping at the prospect. 

The Gentleman presses the tip of his thumb between Fjord’s open lips. “Would you like that, pet? To come with just my cock inside you? To be fucked long enough and well enough to come while caged?”

“Please, sir,” he whimpers, his ass spasming around the plug as he arches his entire body toward the Gentleman. “Please fuck me.” 

The Gentleman pulls him into a possessive kiss, long and slow until Fjord’s breath runs short. When they part, he gazes up to meet the Gentleman’s lust darkened eyes. “Good boy. Strip and position yourself on the bed. Show me how you want me to take you.”

Which is how Fjord finds himself splayed out on the Gentleman’s bed, clinging to the bedsheets with his ass in the air as the Gentleman teases the plug out of his hole and presses in two slick fingers in its place. He gasps and rocks his hips back into the Gentleman’s hand, his dick aching as it swells against the cage, precum slowly dribbling from the tip. Grunts and groans fill the room, needy and pleading, and it takes Fjord a moment to realize they’re coming from him. He shivers, grinding back as the Gentleman curls his fingers just so inside him to leave him panting. Keening.

“You can’t get enough, can you?” The Gentleman coos, running a cool hand along Fjord’s spine. 

“Yes, sir,” he moans, breath short and muscles twitching all over as he struggles to maintain his composure. “Feels so good.”

The Gentleman chuckles, withdrawing his fingers to the first knuckle and scissoring them wide before sliding them back in. They glide just so over that spot deep in Fjord’s core that leaves him burning with desire and arching back into the touch. “I’ve never seen you open so easily for me. I bet if I kept you locked up for a week with a few plugs to keep you occupied, you’d be able to take my fist by the end.”

“ _Fuck,_ please, sir!” he cries, hips moving without him, grinding back and seeking more to fill him up and blot out the ache.

“Gods, I love it when you’re eager for me.” But the Gentleman still presses another finger into him, and Fjord could weep with joy. “Good pet. Now, relax, and let me concentrate.”

Before Fjord can glance over his shoulder and ask for clarification, the Gentleman angles his fingers just right, circling Fjord’s prostate, and Fjord cries out as pleasure tingles all the way down into his toes. Chest dropped to the bed, Fjord arches his back and presses back into the teasing circles, chasing the sensation. And the Gentleman brings his free hand to Fjord’s hip, guiding him into a slow and steady rhythm. 

“Such a pretty, desperate little toy,” the Gentleman whispers. “You take my ropes so well, but with this--” He pauses, sliding his hand around to cup the cage, “--you don’t even need them to stay still and be good for me. And you are a very. Good. Toy.” With each word, the Gentleman thrusts just right, leaving Fjord whimpering with need.

“Gods, sir, please—.”

“Don’t you want to come, pet?” The Gentleman asks, pressing his lips to the small of Fjord’s back.

He whines into the bedding. How can he put it into words that sure, an orgasm sounds great, but what sounds even better is being full and used and serving the Gentleman, showing him how good this feels and thanking him in the only way he knows how. 

Bit by bit, he forces himself to speak. “Please, sir… Let me… feel you. All of you, _oh!_ Fill me, fuck me, take me. _Please, sir!_ ”

A low, possessive note fills the room, and in the blink of an eye, the Gentleman leans down and drapes himself over Fjord’s back, his silk shirt skimming lightly over Fjord’s naked skin, the laces of his trousers open and his cock hot and thick against Fjord’s ass. In a smooth motion, he grinds against Fjord, teasing at his hole until his dick pushes inside, and Fjord groans in relief. _Finally. Fucking finally._

"Fuck," he pants, thrusting back against the Gentleman, taking him deeper and deeper. "Thank you, sir. Thank you."

"Now, now, pretty pet," the Gentleman replies, biting Fjord's shoulder and taking his hips in both hands, "don't thank me til I've given you something to be properly thankful for."

And with no further ado, the Gentleman presses him down into the bed and fucks him in long, powerful thrusts, pressing so much deeper into Fjord than the plug of the Gentleman’s fingers. He cries out, eyes rolling back in his head and toes curling in the bedsheets, relishing the fullness and the ache. 

"Shh, good little toy, just lay still, and let me fill you up."

Fjord keens and arches back into each thrust. Pleasure ignites beneath his skin, coiling tight in his muscles and stealing his breath. He’s never left the Gentleman’s bed unsatisfied, but this afternoon is different. The bliss just curls and builds in his gut, dripping out his confined cock in a thin stream of pre-cum, but it feels too small compared to the swarming feeling inside him. Grinding back against the Gentleman, Fjord clenches each time the Gentleman pulls out, torn between wanting to keep his dick seated deep inside him and needing to feel it breach him again, and again, and again. He soars higher and higher, more words and sounds tumbling out of his mouth than he can keep track of, but as the Gentleman slams into him, Fjord feels his balls draw up tight against his groin and his cock spasm inside the cage and release pulses out of him in waves. 

And for the life of him, he can’t remember if he asked for permission to come.

Just as panic starts to gnaw at his mind, the Gentleman rears back with a low, pleased growl and pulls out of Fjord. Firm hands dig into Fjord’s hips and flip him with surprising ease, and the Gentleman crowds in around him again, rutting against Fjord’s still-leaking cock and stealing Fjord’s mouth with a biting kiss. Head swimming and nerves still sparking, Fjord wraps his arms and legs around the Gentleman and rocks up against him. 

When they break for air, Fjord pants out, “Fuck me, sir. Please.”

“Greedy little thing,” the Gentleman says, biting along Fjord’s collarbones without slowing his pace. “Already came once without permission, and you still want more.”

“Sir, please, let me… let me make it up to you,” he replies, gasping. “Wanna make you feel good, sir. Please, _please._ ”

Groaning, the Gentleman pulls back and gazes down at Fjord, his eyes bright as he coos, “Who am I to turn down such an offer?” He presses back into Fjord, his hips hitching forward as Fjord squeezes around him, equal parts submissive desire and post-orgasm hypersensitivity. Grinning, the Gentleman hooks one of Fjord’s legs over his shoulder and fucks into him. “Make it good for me, pet.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Fjord says, his eyes squeezed shut as he lays back and focuses on clenching in time with the Gentleman’s rhythm. 

Each thrust sinks deep into him, grazing his prostate and leaving him gasping, but for the life of him, all he can do is beg for more. For the Gentleman to hold him open and use him and--

The Gentleman takes his caged cock in hand and kneads, fingers sliding through Fjord's spend. "Pretty toy. Tell me how it feels."

"Oh, sir! It's… I…" But he can hardly form words as the Gentleman steadily fucks him.

"Oh, have I fucked your mind away, pet?"

He moans, nodding as he scrambles for purchase against the bedding.

Tightening his grip enough to make Fjord squirm, the Gentleman asks, "Does it feel good being mine?"

Fjord arches off the bed and pants. "Yes, sir. _Please..._ "

The Gentleman jerks to a stop, his fingers tense around Fjord's cock. "Please what?"

Whining, writhing, aching, Fjord's vision blurs. " _Own me. Please!_ "

Bucking wildly, the Gentleman curses under his breath, bends Fjord nearly in half, and fucks into him in swift, punishing strokes. Offering no rest and no quarter. Fjord clings to him and whimpers, the line between pain and pleasure muddled as his nerves sing. Familiar pleas slip from his mouth, but for the life of him, he can't recall what he's saying. He pants and begs and grapples for the shreds of his control until the Gentleman buries himself in Fjord, growls out "Come for me, pet," and sinks his teeth into Fjord's shoulder.

And with a shudder, Fjord collapses against the bed, ass twitching and cock spent and utterly lost in the aftershocks of bliss.

When he comes to, he's gently suckling at the Gentleman's fingers, the taste of come fresh on his tongue. As he blinks back to awareness, he meets the Gentleman's gaze.

"Welcome back, pet," the Gentleman says, smirking as he ruffles his free hand through Fjord's hair. "I was wondering how long you'd be after that."

Fjord groans, licking lazily when the Gentleman takes his fingers back and returns them. Sluggishly, his mind returns, and Fjord pushes up onto his elbows and takes stock of the situation. The Gentleman has already changed his shirt and tucked himself back into his pants while Fjord is naked but for a thin sheet drawn up over his hips and the remains of his come on his stomach. When he moves, a pleasant ache ripples through him, but between his legs feels clean. And...lighter. 

Brow furrowed, Fjord pushes down the sheet and finds his cock, limp and ruddy from blood flow and no longer weighed down by the cage. His eyes widen.

The Gentleman pulls his fingers free from Fjord's mouth and runs his thumb along Fjord's lower lip. "Something the matter, pet?"

"I…" He trails off and shrugs, his cheeks burning. "I thought you were gonna, y'know, leave it on me."

The Gentleman raises an eyebrow and chuckles darkly. "Oh, I can put it back if you'd like, but I think we both need some time to think it over while we aren't high on endorphins. As much as I enjoy our little games," he says, his voice silky smooth but more serious than before, "if I were to own you, Fjord, I wouldn't let you leave my side much less galavant around the continent adventuring."

Fjord ducks his head. “Right.”

As fun as the fantasy was, as much as he’d enjoyed it when the Gentleman was fucking him stupid, the reality is cold and reminds him of manacles and jeers and other things he’d prefer not to think about. It’s a little sick, maybe, that he has to be grateful that the Gentleman _isn’t_ actually doing these things to him. And maybe he should give this up, say no next time, but he’s still not sure he can.

Just before his thoughts start to spiral beyond his control, the Gentleman lightly cups his chin and tilts his head up until Fjord meets his gaze. "And as divine a prize as you would make, pretty pet, I am not fool enough to risk life and limb fighting your friends to keep you. I hope you can understand."

He nods slowly. "Right, that's definitely for the best."

Smirking back, the Gentleman cups his cheek and rises on his knees, pressing a kiss to Fjord's forehead. "Good boy. Now, let's get you cleaned up. Can't go sending you back to your company looking freshly fucked. It might give them ideas."

With a wry chuckle, Fjord follows as the Gentleman leads him into the bathroom and scrubs him clean. It’s not warm, not sweet, but it’s good to feel treasured, even if it is just for a little while.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and concrit welcome!


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